Soft-Hearted

We have a fly in our house. I saw it buzzing around the window a couple of days ago, but couldn’t get up to swat it.

As it turns out, apparently we have a Darwinian Reject fly in our house. I’m not sure what separated it from its mother at an early age, but it’s little fly instincts don’t seem to be working as it has decided that I am it’s new best friend. It likes to land on my clothing. And if I move around, it just stays there, happily cleaning its feet. If I move around abruptly, it will circle around a little and try landing on me again. Sometimes for variety, it hops from one spot beside me to another, inches away at the most. Pillow, blanket, sofa, back to pillow. The thing has no fear.

I couldn’t help imagining it going “Hi! I’m your new pet! My name is Fred!”. …Which was my first mistake.

Because now I have a housefly who trusts me completely and has a name.

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on Monday, September 19th, 2011 at 11:31 am and is filed under Real Life.
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Fred is a low maintenance pet, he exercises himself, reads blogs over your shoulder for his own amusement and cleans whatever he fly-vomits on, I’m sure. Hope all is well (or at least getting a wee bit better) with you chick!